


Yoga Hurts

by JustSomeAsshole



Series: Jeff Bryan Davis [1]
Category: Drew Carey's Improv-A-Ganza RPF, Whose Line Is It Anyway? RPF
Genre: Anal Fingering, Dom/sub Undertones, Gay, Hand Jobs, Internal Monologue, M/M, Slash, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-27
Updated: 2020-09-27
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:07:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26685640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustSomeAsshole/pseuds/JustSomeAsshole
Summary: Based on the episode of Drew Carey's improv-a-ganza where after a compramising game of Freeze Tag Jeff walks off stage to the audience laughing, Chip follows and smut ensues.Jeff likes Chip and so there's a lot of internal, almost emotional, thoughts, but it's still written in third person.
Relationships: Jeff Bryan Davis (Actor)/Chip Esten
Series: Jeff Bryan Davis [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1941883
Comments: 6
Kudos: 7





	Yoga Hurts

**Author's Note:**

> This is entirely fictional, I do not own Jeff and Chip. Although this is a RPF I do not condone people showing or talking about explicit fanfiction with the actors themselves. Boundaries have to be placed between fandom and reality because these people have their own lives, they're not fictional characters.

A breath of warm air escapes Jeff's lungs in a tight exhale lifted with the desperation of a quiet moan, he's kept on the edge of sanity with Chip's hand working beneath his black pants. Jeff's skin is hot to the touch as Chip moves his hand along his length, flushing him pink in the dim backstage lights. The younger man is visibly straining to try and keep his noise levels to a minimum as he feels the soft brush of a thumb over his tip. He bites his lip, they'd just finished another Vegas show and as usual tensions ran high - especially tonight, Jeff could only just hear the quiet snickering of Chip and Ryan behind him as Greg announced a game of Freeze Tag. When an audience member suggested 'downward dog' as Jeff's starting position he laughed off the chill in his spine upon knowing that his co-stars weren't going to tag him out. But as per normal he put on a good show and bent down with his ass in the air, Jonathan behind him in a 'superman' pose. 

As the game continued Jeff could feel his thigh and abdomen muscles burning from the strained position. When Greg slipped underneath him his body brushed up against him and suddenly it wasn't just his muscles that were aching...his cheeks were burning from the attention of everyone on stage and in the audience. He was a performer, he liked attention, he thrived off audience reaction but this was just so intimate. 

When Jeff shouted "freeze" and walked off stage, effectively ending the game and gaining a collective laugh from the audience he went backstage to straighten out his stiff back and try and compose himself. He wasn't, however, expecting Chip to follow him and catch him with his back against the wall and heavy eyes closed. 

"You good?" Jeff opened his eyes at the sound of Chip's voice and glanced over at him, Chip decided to keep a foot or two between them but still smirked as though he'd known exactly what he'd done. 

"No thanks to you lot" Jeff responded, just a tad of sarcasm in his low voice. 

"Ah...well" Chip started, "just a bit of fun" 

"I'll be sending you and Ryan the bill for my chiropractor" 

Chip laughed, moving forward and standing beside him. He let his hand reach Jeff's shoulder where he simply rested it for a few moments. Jeff's brief glance at its position told him all he needed to know. 

"You loved it" although there was an obvious element of mocking, Jeff could also hear the point blank, direct form of statement. He knew Chip meant exactly what he said, the man probably just wanted Jeff to know that he could read him just that well. It didn't help ease Jeff's current...situation, but rather tightened his pants and expanded his pupils. 

And so Jeff now had both hands flat against the wall behind him, pinned against the surface with a look and a hand holding him frozen in time. 

Jeff has always been fantastically expressive, sometimes dramatically so, never one to shy away from putting on a show, but the way Chip wraps his fingers around his length and twists his wrist has him tense and breathy without any additional pretence. 

"Christ" the word falls from Jeff's lips softly on exhale as he groans at the sensation, Chip's fingers are just slightly rough and so add an extra friction that makes Jeff's head spin when he grinds his hand down onto his cock. Chip's legs are stood either side of Jeff's right knee and he keeps balance by holding his right hand on the wall next to his co-star’s head. The proximity is hot and tense and Chip burns with the desire to rip Jeff's pants all the way off and bury himself deep inside him, but the danger of being caught is too great - therefore he has to settle for pulling out moans and grunts with his hand. 

When Chip's elegant fingers find their way to the base of Jeff's cock and massage his balls the younger man lets out an involuntarily loud moan, he bites his lip and reaches out to hold onto Chip's upper arm as he plays with his sensitive skin. 

"Ssh..." Chip hushes, giving a harder squeeze in reprimand and smiling in the dark when Jeff whimpers. He slides his hand out from the confines of Jeff's pants and holds onto his waist, trying to get him to turn around. 

When Jeff got to facing the wall with breathless anticipation Chip starts to pull his pants down to his knees, exposing Jeff's backside and making him shudder at the touch of a hand on his thigh. Chip bends his knees to fall to the floor and become eye level with Jeff's bare ass, he spreads his legs as wide as the pants will allow and brings two fingers into his mouth to wetten them as much as he can. 

Jeff's surprised gasp turns to a moan at the feel of Chip's slick forefinger circling his tight ring of muscle, when it begins to push inside him Jeff's palms become sweaty against the wall.   
“I said to shush" Chip repeats his order and Jeff wants to fall apart. He's not used to this dominant side but Chip's tone and hands have him yearning to do anything his friend desires. But Jeff wants to apologise, he almost wants to whisper a broken "sorry Sir", whether laced in sarcasm or not, the idea that part of him may want to say it sincerely terrifies him. So Jeff settles for drawing his bottom lip between teeth and tries to stay quiet. 

Chip's finger is pushing inside him past the natural resistance of muscle and God it hurts, Jeff wants to scream at the lack of proper lubrication but he also doesn't want Chip to care that he's hurting him. He wants to be used and touched in whichever way Chip decides, he wants to feel good and bad, he needs this attention whenever he truly knows that or not. 

Jeff fights not to cry out at the mixture of pain and pleasure that Chip's finger is eliciting, especially as it crooks up, searching for the ball of nerves inside him. Jeff is holding his breath when Chip brushes against his prostate and makes him whimper behind his teeth. Everything feels so slow and intense but he wants more, Jeff tries to push against Chip's hand but he is only met with the sharp dig of blunt fingernails in his hip - Chip's other hand chooses to hold him in place as he deepens his touch. A small flick of contact against his prostate, harder than before, and Jeff is already desperately clawing at the wall. 

It feels like ten seconds and ten minutes at the same time before Chip is stretching Jeff out with a second eager finger, the younger man is curling his toes in his expensive Italian leather shoes trying not to make any distinct noise. Just as Chip wants. He shouldn't be this turned up after barely five minutes of human contact. Stupid game. 

Chip tightens the hold of Jeff's hip as he pushes that second finger in deep with the first one, he doesn't stop to let Jeff adjust to the added stretch. Jeff doesn't care. He feels the purposeful lack of regard and suddenly his cock is wet at the tip, barely shiny to the eye in the dark, but he knows. Chip is pushing his fingers up against Jeff's prostate again, he is making sure his touch is rough and fleeting enough to make Jeff crave the intensity. 

He can't beg. He wants to, God Jeff wants to be bent into whichever position and ruined completely, but those dreams die in his head from lack of verbalisation. When Jeff is on stage, on screen, he is putting on this confidence and intelligence that Chip takes immense pride in stripping down, he doesn't want Performer Jeff - he wants this distractingly honest, open, beautiful Jeff. 

Another stroke of his sweet spot has Jeff biting his fist, teeth against knuckle in order to hold himself together, he can feel Chip's warm breath growing slowly more rapid behind his head. He likes that, he likes that Chip gets off by totally ruining his senses. Jeff thinks that Chip secretly loves how much of an exhibitionist he is, and Jeff loves to be observed by him. 

A further thrust means Jeff is reaching for his aching cock, but Chip traps his hand against the small of his back and holds it in place as he pumps his fingers inside him, Jeff moans at the twinge of pain in his arm and Chip smiles at the position he has him in. He is held in this stance because that's how Chip wants him, he wants him to only feel his fingers and so that’s all he's going to feel. 

Jeff’s cock is heavy between his legs but he doesn’t have the ability to feel embarrassed for how quickly he is getting wound up, he aches to touch his cock – his skin burning with need because Chip’s fingers are too much and not enough and Jeff wants to cum badly. He needs more. Chip is milking his prostate with no mercy and fuck if that doesn’t make Jeff ache in pure lust and arousal. He thinks he might he able to cum from just this but in the back of his mind the knowledge that Chip can keep him dancing on the edge for as long as possible makes his nipples turn hard.   
Chip can faintly hear the quiet sound of Jeff cursing under his breath as he reaches towards the edge, Chip's hand lets go of his trapped wrist and moves around the front pocket of Jeff's suit jacket to pull out the handkerchief neatly folded into a square. Jeff is shuddering at the action and when Chip shakes out the material and holds it over the tip of Jeff's cock the smooth, soft feel of the pocket square against his hot skin makes him shiver in blissful agony. Chip pumps his cock using the silk almost like a glove and has Jeff close to collapsing on to the floor at the sensation. 

Chip's fingers dance over his prostate and Jeff can feel his eyes stinging at the beautiful combination of stimuli, his body tries to push towards both of Chip's hands as he steadily heads toward climax. He is being toyed and played with, his hands are sweaty and his entire body is on the edge of orgasm just waiting to dive off. 

"Chip" he moans, his voice strained and breathless as his hands clutch at the wall in desperation for something to keep him grounded in reality because his head is spinning at 70 miles per hour. He can’t keep quiet and he doesn’t care that Chip might reprimand him. 

  
"You wanna cum for me, Jeffy?" Chip whispers into his ear, the nickname is such a cruel casual juxtaposition from the rather serious state of arousal Jeff is falling deeper into, but never the less hearing the words tore a suppressed cry from his throat. He can’t concentrate on anything but steady thrum of fingertip against his prostate and the heaven like pleasure coursing through his cock. For lack of a better word it is almost evil for Chip to ruin him with the pocket square that makes his signature look so divine. It’s so Goddamn attractive. Jeff is struggling to string a reply together but he can feel Chip smirking by his neck as his breathing becomes unabashedly rapid. All he can manage is a tight nod of his head. 

  
“Was that a ‘yes'?” Chip continues, Jeff scrambles for available brain cells just so he can utter a single word. 

  
“Please" his plea is a low whisper, it’s strained and desperate and honest and Jeff needs to cum so badly he can feel it in his eyes. Chip is somehow still smiling as he leans in even closer, working his hands. 

  
“Go on"

  
Jeff’s mouth falls open as his eyes clench tight, his fist in his mouth when his cock twitches as a hot, white liquid shoots into the material encompassing his tip. His toes clench in his shoes harder at the continued prostate stimulation that has stars shooting behind his eyes and sweat drenching his forehead. He doesn’t scream but his cock is tingling and aching and Chip is jerking him softly to work through the aftershocks that make his orgasm last for what feels like hours. 

  
When he comes down and regains the ability to think Jeff tries to catch his breath, Chip slowly pulls out of him and Jeff clenches around the emptiness. His cock, still partially wrapped in Italian silk, is warm and pulsing in Chip’s still hand. Jeff hasn’t opened his eyes yet and is strongly relying on Chip to make sure he doesn’t collapse when he does. He can feel the post-orgasm sensitivity when Chip slides the material away from his cock and bundles up his release in a small round parcel, he wipes his fingers on the dark blue. 

  
Jeff attempts to stand straight and feels the ache of the show in his muscles, so it turns out yoga does hurt. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. I always appreciate it if you leave a like and a comment.


End file.
